The First Victim

CHAPTER 14

Stevie McNeal, accustomed to more attention than what she received from the Seattle Police Department, sat impatiently in an uncomfortable chair in the Crimes Against Persons reception area, next to a secretary pool of Hispanic, Asian and African-American women busy at computers.

She remembered LaMoia from the raising of the container. Flippant, cocky and a womanizer, if she was any judge of character. Adding to insult, she had the sinking feeling she was going to have to reintroduce herself.

‘‘Stevie McNeal,’’ she reminded him, as loath as she was to do so.

‘‘I know,’’ he said. ‘‘We met last week. You wouldn’t remember.’’

‘‘But I do remember.’’ She won him over with that one comment, and congratulated herself on knowing how to play him. He traveled the length of her-head to toe with a few layovers-before offering her a chance to sit down. Across the room, a number of heads began turning. There were times celebrity had its benefits.

She said, ‘‘I’m working with a freelance reporter to assist me in my ongoing series. She does the footwork and the footage. I do the voice-overs. It’s an investigative, expository piece. I’ve lost contact with her. I want you to find her.’’

‘‘To say I’m a fan would not be fair, Ms. McNeal. Not always. But I’m familiar with your work. I’ve been taping this series on the illegals-both to see myself on TV,’’ he offered a toothy smile, ‘‘and to pick up any leads you might have to offer.’’

‘‘Her name’s Melissa Chow. Chinese by birth. Five foot two. A hundred and five pounds. Oval face, small nose. . I have pictures.’’ She passed them to him.

LaMoia studied the snapshots. ‘‘She’s just a colleague?’’

‘‘We’re sisters. Legally. It’s a long story. We grew up together. My father brought her over from China when she was little, and we adopted her. She’s family, and now she’s in the middle of doing this work for me, and she’s gone missing.’’

‘‘Missing for how long?’’ LaMoia asked.

‘‘I don’t know exactly. I last saw her on Monday.’’

‘‘It’s Thursday.’’

‘‘Thank you for that,’’ Stevie said. ‘‘I loaned her one of the station’s digital cameras, and sent her off to get a story. I’ve lost touch with her.’’

‘‘We can put a photograph of her into our radio cars. We can get her paperwork going,’’ he conceded. ‘‘But most of the investigative work I suspect you’ve already done: contacting co-workers, family members, friends, neighbors. If you’d gotten anywhere, you wouldn’t be here.’’

‘‘And here I am.’’

He jotted down a note. ‘‘We’ll check with pawnshops.’’

‘‘You think she sold the camera?!’’ she asked, incredulous. ‘‘Do you have any idea what is going on here? Melissa stuck her nose into something she shouldn’t have and she’s gone missing. That’s it. That’s all. We need to find her, and we need to find her fast.’’

‘‘Let’s start again,’’ he suggested. ‘‘She was working on your series? The illegals?’’

‘‘She was following a lead I got on this illegals story.’’

He bowed his head and gave her a telling look.

‘‘I don’t know exactly how far she had gotten, where she was going with it.’’

‘‘We need to know exactly what she was working on,’’ LaMoia prompted.

‘‘There was a man who offered us some information,’’ Stevie explained cautiously.

‘‘His name?’’ LaMoia inquired.

‘‘He wished to remain anonymous. I honored that. We met at a restaurant.’’

‘‘His name,’’ LaMoia repeated, a pen hovering above paper.

Calculating how much to tell him, Stevie said, ‘‘If I give you that, you’ll track him down and then we’ll both lose him. I don’t see how that helps anyone.’’

LaMoia said, ‘‘And what if your ‘source’ is actually the one responsible for her disappearance? Have you thought of that?’’ He added, ‘‘Listen, Ms. McNeal, I see things that even as a reporter, you couldn’t dream of. My job is to find her as quickly as possible. I need every scrap, every handout I can get.’’

Stevie placed a file folder onto the desk. ‘‘Photos, background, handwriting samples. Find my sister, goddamn it, or I warn you: Your incompetence will be my next story.’’ With that she stood up and walked out. One way or another, she would get them to help.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 214 DAYS MISSING